


Red Nebula

by ComplimentaryCuller



Series: Among the Stars verse [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: FWP, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Pale Porn, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 09:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12129771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComplimentaryCuller/pseuds/ComplimentaryCuller





	Red Nebula

“You can get up, you know,” Karkat said.

Terezi smiled at him, and he smiled back, gripping Gamzee’s hand like a lifeline, trying to disguise his panic.

And then he nearly toppled over.

 **_‘I have never had a boy child,’_ ** some... _thing_ said in his head.

Feferi gasped, having come over to congratulate him. “M-mother?” she said, looking bewildered. “W-where did you go?”

**_‘But I suppose I have one now. Tell her where I have gone, my child. She is old enough, but you shall need my guidance.’_ **

Karkat looked at her in panic. “She’s in my head! Lusii can’t speak, so why is she?!”

Feferi looked at him, tears filling her eyes. “She chose you? How could she?! I need her!” She wailed, dropping to her knees.

**_‘Command her, my child. She is upsetting you.’_ **

“Shut up!!! Get out of my head, now!” Karkat gripped his head, claws sharp, spilling cherry red down his face.

Gamzee reached for his moirail, concern twisting his paint. “Pabe, what’s going on? What are you talking about?”

Karkat screeched, and everyone below mustard began bleeding from the nose, Aradia full on fainting.

 **_‘Good, my child,’_ ** the voice crooned. **_‘You grow quickly into your abilities.’_ **

“ _WHAT ARE YOU *TALKING* ABOUT?”_ Karkat screamed, and the olive-blooded members of the late )(IC’s retinue joined the growing pile of psychically fucked-up.

**_‘Hush, my son. You will hurt your subjects.’_ **

Karkat looked around, gasping as he saw the havoc his cries had wrought. “Oh Gog,” he said. He saw Aradia, crumpled on the ground, Kanaya checking her pulse, and his hand clapped over his mouth in horror.

Kanaya turned and saw the look in his eyes, trying for a comforting smile and managing bewildered relief. “She’s not dead, do not fear, merely unconscious.”

Karkat turned to Feferi, who was gripping Eridan’s arm like if she didn’t hold onto her moirail she would float away. “What the fuck is going on?” He looked at her in disbelief.

She stared at him, tears threatening, and glanced away. “She chose you,” she said, voice tight. “Gl'bgolyb chose you.”

**_‘She is correct, my son. You are strong, and I shall help you master your strength. You have only just come into your true power, and I shall teach you to control it.’_ **

Gl'bgolyb’s tone changed. **_‘You shall rule for a thousand Empires, and undo the works of all my children before you. Power unspoken resides in you, and it shall be unleashed when you need it most. You shall sustain those most treasured to you unendingly, and will be the lifeblood of the Empire. All shall worship you, and never again will they kneel to any other.’_**

Karkat’s knees met the ground, the power of the prophecy given to all of Gl'bgolyb’s children hitting him harder than a trident to the gut. A thousand Empires? Lifeblood of the Empire? Worship? He couldn’t do this. He was barely 10, his only talents fighting and yelling people into submission, and suddenly, the fate of an Empire was completely under his control, the lives of billions of trolls a whispered command away from being snuffed out. Dimly, he was aware of cool hands on his face, of Gamzee’s whispered pleas for him to come back to him, please brother, that he could help him, but he only dug his claws into the rock floor of the challenge grounds, cracks spreading like a spider web. He restrained himself from letting out a scream, conscious of the danger it posed, and took deep breaths, eyes wild.

The royal entourage had gathered around their Emperor, a rough distance of fifty feet, and their whispers cut out abruptly as one of the congregation shoved her way to the front. “Well, I for one won’t be obeying this abomination! Look at him, collapsing after a duel, like the wriggler he is-”

Karkat struggled to his feet, claws covered with flecks of stone, hair wild, bathed in tyrian ichor, sclera _glowing_ red like a stop light, and she closed her mouth with an audible click as he walked towards her. He looked up at her, wiry 4’9 form to her 12’4, eyes bathing her in red light, and she gaped in horror.

He scowled, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, *shut* the *fuck* up, you fuckwhiffing snooty-ass message-ferrying approval sticker-fucker. I mean, really, who the fuck asked you? No one gives a shit about you or your hemocaste circle-jerk, so if you could kindly shut your gaping idiocy-maw, that’d be much appreciated. Seriously, can you listen to yourself speak for a single second? Abomination, really, that’s the _best_ you can think of? Bee vomit, please, I’ve called myself worse than that. Try on horror, monstrosity, mistake, freak, weakling, worthless, waste of space, crime against nature, repulsive, disgusting,” he ticked them off on his fingers, onlookers wide-eyed as the courtier looked increasingly guilty, and not quite knowing why. He threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “The list goes the fuck on! Really, you think I led an entire rebellion without being called mean names? I just fought and killed the reigning Empress, and you think I care about your grubshitting *feelings*? That it’s suddenly *my* problem how you feel about being ruled by some mutant? Fuck no! So you can go pail a nuclear warp core for all I care about your worthless, shameshitting, motherfucking-nookfondling carcass!” He was breathing heavily by the end of it, making a valiant attempt to loom into her space.

She looked down, ashamed, looking like a chastised wriggler. “I apologize, Your Imperial Peacekeeper. I was out of line, and my words were treasonous. I accept whatever punishment you see fit.” She felt… guilty, like she had no business disrespecting him, and it confused her endlessly.

He nodded authoritatively. “Damn right. I’ll let it slide, for now.”

 **_‘You have done well, my son. Already, you command respect and obeisance. I am proud.’_ ** Gl'bgolyb’s voice radiated motherly pride, and it boosted Karkat's confidence.

He looked around, surveying the crowd, and looked to his friends and the late )(IC’s advisors.

“Come on, fuckers, we’ve got a lot to do. Where’s the damn decision block? I’ve got shit to do, I’m a busy troll! Hop to!” His voice carried the tone of steel he used on the battlefield, and everyone hopped the fuck to.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

The decision block (council room, if you were a highblood) was a mess of activity. Eridan and Vriska were at the head of one table, thankfully not bickering, maps and war strategies laid out before them as they explained the new systems and rules of warfare, completely removing fleets from some systems and bulking up on others. Terezi was gleefully whacking trolls who argued with her with her cane as she reconfigured the legal system, somehow more intimidating that the aged and hardened Murderistrates and Lawviscerators. Kanaya spoke to a variety of holos of mother grub tenders and Cavern Overseers, talking about the reforms, her audience much more receptive than the others. Sollux was busy, furiously coding and yelling at people simultaneously, talking about the sheer inefficiency of the helmsman method and how he could do iit ten tiimeth better and they'd better fuckiing liithten. Aradia was gesturing excitedly as she talked to the Alternian wriggler authorities about the new way they'd be sharing resources and caring for wrigglers, Equius off in the corner sweating while he worked with the top engineers about the mechanical replacement lusii for orphaned or untaken wrigglers, as well as in-planet irrigation and farming drones. Tavros and Nepeta were tackling the issue of how to deal with the Empire's vast array of territories and systems. Feferi… she had excused herself, after reassuring her moirail that she needed some time alone, and that “Whale, you can hardly leave Vriska to do that alone, ha ha!”. He was inclined to believe her, about the second one, at least. Karkat stood at the head of it all, Gamzee at his side, as he was mobbed (at a respectful distance) by courtiers and officials vying for their new Emperor's favor. It wasn't really working, as he didn't really care about resort planets, and one of the first things Terezi did was totally scrap the old protocols on slavery and began rebuilding it from the ground up, using wildly colored charts and a lot of cane drubbings. Karkat was stubbornly standing his ground, and to the common observer he seemed collected and, frankly, much like he was simply viewing this as another battle to fight, and one he would not retreat from. To anyone who had more than a passing acquaintance with him, he was dead on his feet, moving and managing his surroundings on automatic.

Gl’bgolyb’s voice still echoed in his head.

Gamzee subtly flagged a servant. “Got a room set up for the Emperor yet?” he asked in a low tone, eyebrow raised.

The olive-blood nodded. “I will have one prepared as soon as possible, Your Mirthfulness.” They bowed, and scurried off, not wanting to disappoint the second most powerful figure in the entirety of the Alternian Empire. Not thirty minutes later, they returned, bowing low to Gamzee, before saying that the room was ready.

Gamzee nodded at them, an acknowledgement, but not yet a dismissal, and tapped his moirail on the arm, before facing the courtiers. “Yea, we're done,” he drawled, making a shooing motion with his long-clawed hands. “Go make yourselves useful, 'stead of tryin ta kiss his bulge.”

The courtiers looked at his sign, at his red-painted claws, and his diamond-shaped ring, a bright, mutant red. They left to make themselves useful.

“Come on, pabe,” Gamzee said. “You're dead on your feet.”

Karkat could only summon the energy to glare. That was admission enough.

Gamzee looked to the servant, arm slung around Karkat's waist. “Lead the way, bro,” he said, gesturing for them to go.

They walked through corridors, them all being furiously redecorated in reds and his sigil. Silk hangings were taken down and replaced with identical copies in red, gems levered out of the walls, murals painted over, trident motifs replaced by sickles. Progress everywhere was halted as the moirails and their guide made their way through the halls, as all of the servants bowed hurriedly, not daring to look at their Emperor. Karkat barely even noticed. Gamzee waved at them, as if to say that they could carry on, and his painted claws and ring, one made of sea glass by seven sweeps olds fresh into a moirallegiance, carried more weight than one would expect. The servant set a swift pace, mindful of the impatience of highbloods, and they arrived at red painted doors, Karkat's sign painted on them in gold, and they slid open into the walls without a whisper as they stood in front of them. Gamzee dismissed the servant, and guided Karkat through, waiting for the doors to close before he bundled his moirail into his arms and carried him over to a lounging platform, arranging snuggle planes around him, before going around the extravagant block and gathering up a wide assortment of feather sacks and snuggle planes, gathering them in a pile, adding some horns and romance novels he carried specifically for this purpose. Task complete, he picked up his moirail again and brought him to the pile, taking out a hairbrush, and began sorting out Karkat's hair. He knew his moirail would speak about what was troubling him when he was ready. In the meantime, he could stand to look more like an Emperor. The Grand Highblood had more leeway on his appearance, but the Emperor should look in control. Halfway through, Karkat began to speak.

“I can still feel her,” he croaked. “Gl'bgolyb. She's always fucking there. She's here right now.” He shuddered, unconsciously nestling back against his moirail. “I don't know if I can do this, Gamzee. I-I, I'm only ten. The best I can do is yell until people listen. I'm not-”

Gamzee shushed him, putting a hand gently over his mouth. “Hush, pabe. None of that in this pile. I know you, love, and I know you'll fret yourself to death without a care to those that believe in you.” He stroked Karkat's face, purple eyes full of care and pity meeting heretical reds, filled with fear.

Karkat shuddered. “I can still feel the blood, Gamzee,” Karkat croaked, swallowing hard. “It was so cold, and it dripped down into my clothes and it was running down my back like a pink oil slick, _and I can still feel it.”_ He shivered, eyes closed as he remembered the feeling of pink ichor dripping down his face, cold as ice on his mutant frame. "Why do I feel so _guilty?"_ he asked weakly.

Gamzee shifted, laying next to him, and held him tight to his taller frame. "'Cause you care too much, pabe," he said softly. "Always trying to take care of everyone, keep the whole damn universe safe if you could." He kissed a horntip. "Deep inside, you still wanted to sway her, pabe." Gamzee nuzzled Karkat's squeakbeast's-nest of hair, huffing tiredly. "You don't know when to back down from a fight, neither. Whether you're spinning sickles or shouting reason into 'em."

“So many people are dead, Gamzee,” came his muffled voice, his face buried into the purpleblood's bony chest. “They're all _dead_ , and I couldn't stop it.”

“I know, pabe,” Gamzee said softly. “I know.” He didn't try to tell him it wasn't his fault; he'd never believe him, not with him trying to take all the blame for himself, not sharing it with any others. His chest was wet with tears, and he let them flow, sheltering the mutant’s small frame with his own. The sobs died down, and Gamzee uncurled from around his moirail, lifting Karkat's face so that he could wipe the tears. He ran the pad of his thumb over a wet cheek, and brushed the hair out of Karkat's eyes, before kissing him softly, chaste and pity-filled.

“Oh, love,” he said. “Shit’s gone strange.” He kissed Karkat's forehead.

Karkat tightened his grip on him, seeking refuge in Gamzee's arms, and squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block out the world.

**_‘Do not fret, my son. You will prevail, and guide the Empire to victory. I know this.’_ **

He shuddered. ‘ _Go away,’_ he thought back to her. _'Leave me_ **_alone_ ** _.’_

She aquiesced, sliding away to just within reach, unnoticed unless asked for. The horror-terrors demanded that she mother the Empire, and so she would. She knew Feferi would survive, as all the others had when they were left to fend for themselves, but although she missed her, she knew Karkat needed her more. And she would be there. So she gave him solitude, but did not leave.

He relaxed, the presence of another mind in his slipping away, and leaned into Gamzee's soft touch.

They slept.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Karkat drifted in the warm haze of being between waking and sleeping, cocooned by the coldness of his moirail, their purring the only sound in the large and gaudy room. His limbs had tangled with Gamzee's while they were sleeping, and he knew he wouldn't be able to escape without waking him. Instead, he drifted, mind still hazy and filled with pale fog, and he was almost asleep again when Gamzee's wrist-husk honked loudly to the tune of “La Cucaracha”. They both startled awake, Gamzee completely falling out of the pile, and the holo turned on, a harrassed looking Mirthful glaring at him .

“Hey, Grandy, come on, you're late for the Morning Cull, you've got a strategy meeting, there's shit to do, come-”

Karkat hissed at them from within the pile. “Fuck off, he's busy,” he snarled, in the tone of someone who’d just been in a pile. “He's doing a service to the Empire, so fuck off.”

Eyes wide, they saluted, and switched off the holo.

Gamzee started snickering, and Karkat swatted at him, before joining in, and soon, they were laughing in earnest.

Eventually, it subsided, and they were left smiling at each other.

“Come on, idiot,” Karkat said affectionately. “We've got shit to do, and if you think I'm doing that without a long soak in the ablution trap then you're wrong.”

Gamzee laughed. “Bet you anything that it's gaudy as fuck, bro. Prob’ly bedazzled the damn _wash basin_ , knowing her.”

“I'd be more surprised if she _didn't,_ honestly. Fucking highbloods.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

They were right. The wash basin _was_ bedazzled. In pink garnets, too.

Fucking highbloods.


End file.
